


Day 21: Elita-1

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2019 [11]
Category: Transformers (IDW 2019)
Genre: Commitment, Gen, Medical Procedures, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 15:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: As the head of the Ascenticon Guard, Elita-1 is one of the first to receive her new badge. It's a commitment she's proud to make.





	Day 21: Elita-1

“Elita-1” a voice said over the intercom, and Elita pushed off of the wall she’d been leaning against to walk into the medbay.

“Present.” she announced, and a medic waved her over to one of the partitioned-off mediberths.

“Over here, and lie flat on the berth.” they gestured. She did, and immediately tensed as she felt it magnetise, locking her in place. “No need to worry, we just don’t want you flinching during the procedure.”

“And why not simply sedate me?” she asked, opticsc tracking the medic’s movement as well as they could.

“Because I will need you able to tell me if something goes wrong.” the medic said smoothly, popping open her wrist port cover and jacking in, using a medical override to bypass her firewalls. “I’m going to disable the majority of you motor controls as well, just to be safe, and your vocaliser for the duration of the procedure, but your comms will still be open. Here is my code; ping me once for an explanation, twice to stop. Now blink once if you got that.”

Elita blinked.

“Good, now this will hurt but don’t worry, that’s normal.” the medic chattered as they sent a code to open her chestplate and reveal her spark casing. “If the pain increases sharply, that’s when you need to ping me.” the medic froze her chestplates open so not even autonomic processes could snap them shut, and unplugged from her wrist. Elita wondered if Megatron had already had his badge forged this way when he decided to make it mandatory for full members. She sort of hoped he had, actually. The thought of her leader going through this was a comforting one, attesting to the skill of their medics and the safety of the procedure.

Something buzzed just outside her field of vision, and Elita found herself trying to tense in preparation for the pain. It was a strange sensation, being able to feel her frame but not control it. She was very much _not_ a fan. “Making first incision now.” the medic said, and Elita was suddenly very glad she was so thoroughly immobilised because _Primus_ that hurt. She couldn’t even grit her denta against it, could only stare at the ceiling and try to let the pain wash over her without dragging her under.

She’d taken a variety of injuries in her functioning, mostly from sparring, but not even the worst of them had felt like this. The blade sliced through her spark casing like a line of pure agony, splitting sensors every micrometer of the way, and only as the medic’s hand lifted did she realized she’d not gotten any alerts on her HUD. They must’ve been disabled without her noticing. Her frame trembled minutely, a completely unconscious root-code-driven reaction to her current situation. Root coding couldn’t identify that this was a safe environment, something she’d chosen for herself, all it knew was that the protective shell around her spark was damaged and her chest was still open.

“Now, just to double check, was that the same level of pain the whole way down or did it worsen at any point?”

It took Elita a moment to realize that the medic leaning over her had spoken, and she stared at them blankly for a moment. “Oh, right. Blink once for no difference, twice for worsening.”

Elita blinked once, and the medic nodded with a controlled flare of satisfaction in their field. “I need to attach this clamp to the piece of your casing which will be coming out, to make sure it doesn’t fall into the spark chamber.” they said, reaching out of Elita’s very limited field of vision and retrieving a contraption of small folded metal bars with a grasper on one end and a plain clamp on the other. “Now, this may feel a little strange.” they warned as they affixed the clamp end to her armour nearest the spark, and if Elita had any level of motor control she would’ve shuddered at the sensation of small points digging into her spark casing. It didn’t hurt, not like the throbbing gash just next to the clamp, but the sensation wasn’t pleasant either.

“Alright, that’s secure.” the medic nodded in satisfaction. “Now just one more cut and I can get your badge underway and a numbing agent on the edges to encourage healing.”

Elita pinged them once, and the medic paused with the blade close enough to her spark casing she could feel the disturbance it made in the air. “What do you need explained?”

Elita could only stare at the medic mutely until they realized what a ridiculous question that was to ask a mech whose vocaliser was disabled. “You know what, you can ask once this is done. It’s almost over.” the blade sunk into her spark casing without warning, and Elita’s vocaliser clicked as it tried to emit a scream despite being disabled. It hurt worse this time, a fire which consumed all her attention, frame straining to move despite the locks on her servos and the powerful magnet holding her to the berth. The blade lifted after what felt like an eternity, and Elita’s frame fell limp against the berth, spark casing throbbing as the medic pulled the excised metal out of her chest. Her spark itself seemed to ache, a pulsing pain that matched the pace of her fuel pump, but as the medic’s hands moved back into her chest that too faded.

The pain did not vanish entirely, but as the medic carefully applied sensor-numbing mesh patches it dulled to a low throb, not unlike the next-day complaints of cabling worked too hard in drills. Elita still snapped her chestplates closed as fast as she physically could, when that ability was returned to her, and as soon as she was free to do so she sat up, pressing a hand to her chest. Even with perfectly sturdy armour covering it again, her spark felt vulnerable. Her root coding would adapt though, cybertronians were good at changing.

“Now, what was the question you had for me?” the medic asked, and it took Elita a moment to recall what she’d wanted to have explained.

“This injury, will it heal on its own?” she gestured at her chest, and the medic shook their helm.

“Spark casings are highly complex. Our frames forge them only with guidance from Vector Sigma.” they picked up the excised piece of her spark casing which was still attached to the clamp, a narrow slice all things considered, but thicker than she’d expected. “It would hardly be a show of resolve if in a vorn or few you couldn’t tell it ever happened, now would it?”

Elita rubbed at her chest plating, optics on the metal which had sat beneath it when she walked into Medical. “No, it wouldn’t.” she agreed, and the medic dropped the slice of her spark casing into a small bag, sealing it shut before handing it over.

“Go out the side door and across the hall, they’re machining the badges there.” the medic grinned and tapped their own shoulder, drawing her attention to the purple lines drawn over one of their medic crosses.

“Thank you.” she said politely, and held the bag close to her chest as she left the little privacy screened area and headed for the indicated door. With any luck, getting it machined and welded on would go fast enough she could still pick up the rest of her shift.

**Author's Note:**

> I disagree with IDW2 having the Cons just stamp their badges on. Where’s the symbolism? The commitment? The _gravitas_? Where’s the eternal scar that will surely carry so much stigma later in the war? Come _on_ Ruckley, gimme something to work with!


End file.
